A Good Pirate is Hard (to Find)
by Mystearica676
Summary: Cora's on the loose in Storybrooke, and Emma worries about Henry's safety. She goes to Mr. Gold for a protection spell to keep her son from harm while they go looking for Baelfire. The problem is, she can't do the spell alone, and the choice of partners is slim pickings. Can Hook perhaps rise to the challenge? (Absolutely terrible pun absolutely intended! On to the story...)
1. No Time for Sleeping

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Edward Kitsis and Adam Horowitz, ABC Studios, Disney, and various publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is AU in that it will (sadly) never happen (or WILL it, ABC?! No? Fine then...) However, it's set in line with the current story, after the episode In the Name of the Brother. The only difference is that Gold waited longer to call in Emma's favor. I needed to give Hook time to heal and get out of the hospital. And now I'm shutting up!

XXXXX

Emma's thoughts were racing a mile a minute as she packed her duffel bag. She was concerned. She didn't like leaving Henry now that Cora was in town, and definitely not to run off with Mr. Gold on some wild goose chase. Could the man have picked a _worse _time to call in her favor? And her mother was not helping her state of mind.

"This is ridiculous. He can't just expect to snap his fingers and have you come running," fumed Snow White.

"I'm pretty sure that's exactly what he expects." Emma sighed. "He's probably accustomed to that sort of thing."

"Well I won't have it!" Snow paced the floor, and lowered her voice. "I don't think you should be leaving Henry now. Obviously, we're going to look after him and guard him with our lives, but Cora is an unimaginably dangerous enemy. I really wish you wouldn't go."

"Are you suggesting that I break my oath?" Emma zipped up her duffel and flopped back onto her bed, staring up at the whitewashed ceiling beams. "That would probably be a Very Bad Thing. Do you think Gold makes any less dangerous an enemy than Cora?"

Snow sat down next to her daughter and stroked her hair. She closed her eyes against the brief flash of pain when she remembered she'd missed twenty-eight years of this closeness. She couldn't imagine losing it again so soon after they had found each other.

"No," she said quietly, and took Emma's hand. "Gold would in all likelihood be worse. Plus, it's only right that you honor your promises, and he's not asking for anything unreasonable, really. It's just terrible timing."

"It'll be ok, I'll be perfectly fine," Emma said. "Gold needs me, and I doubt he spent all this time and energy making sure I'd come here, meet you all, and save the town only to lure me away and kill me in Boise, Idaho or something. I just wish I knew Henry would be safe while I was gone. Not that I don't trust you guys, of course! Still…"

"I understand completely," Snow reassured her. "He's your son."

She said it as if that explained everything. And maybe it did. Emma was sort of new to whole loving parent thing, but she knew she would give her life for Henry's in a heartbeat. If there was just something she could do. Emma sat up quickly, "I have an idea! Maybe there's some sort of protection spell I can get from Gold to keep Henry from harm while I'm out of town. It can't hurt to ask!" Emma fished her boots out from under her bed and pulled them on in a flurry of motion, reaching for her jacket and car keys afterwards.

"I don't know," Snow looked at her rushing daughter with more than a little concern. "Protection spells are tricky. There is never a guarantee that they'll work properly. And do you really want to be indebted to Mr. Gold again? If you have to go, we can watch Henry. I promise you we will."

"I know, mom, and believe me when I tell you there's no one I'd rather he be with while I'm gone, but a little extra protection would mean peace of mind for all of us, right?"

Emma became alarmed at the sudden tears in Snow's eyes. "Seriously, I trust you guys! I just-"

"No, no, that's not it," Snow laughed and brushed away a few tears. "You called me mom!"

Emma blushed. "Yeah, well… It's about time, right? Anyway, I've got to go. I should have just enough time to catch Gold and ask about the spell before he really gets into packing for the trip. God knows what that even entails. How does a five hundred year old fairy tale warlock prepare for a roadtrip? Never mind, I don't want to know." She stuffed her cell phone in her back pocket and waved to Henry and her father on her way out the door.

Charming left his grandson to his drawing and came over to kiss Snow's cheek. "So where is our daughter running off to now? Another dragon needs slaying?" Snow smacked his rear end and he smiled. She stood up and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"She's gone to see about a protection spell for Henry, which should conceivably not be as dangerous as a dragon, but with Gold involved, who knows? I tried to talk her out of it, but she's so headstrong."

"Yeah, she gets that from you," Charming dodged another swat. "She'll be fine. We just have to have faith in her."

"Always," Snow agreed. "Now who wants some chocolate chip cookies?" she called in a louder voice towards the kitchen.

"Me!" Henry cried, and jumped off the chair, already grabbing the milk from the refrigerator.

XXXXX

"Mr. Gold?" Emma called, as the little bell tinkled over the pawnshop's door.

The man himself walked out from the back, carrying his customary cane. Emma wondered briefly if he truly needed it for anything other than beating people. He looked as impeccably dressed as always in a crisp purple shirt, silk tie, and at least three rent checks' worth of a suit.

"Ms. Swan. You're early. Not that I don't appreciate your zeal, but I'm not quite prepared yet."

"Yeah, probably need to sacrifice those last few virgins," Emma mumbled.

"What was that, dearie?" Gold was smiling as if he had heard her, that preternatural freaky bastard.

"I need your help. I need a spell."

Gold raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure you understand the concept of our little trip today. It is the payment for the favor you already owe me. Now you wish for something more? Are you really sure that's what you want?" His tone implied that no, that is really _not_ what she should want.

"Yes. I want a protection spell for Henry, to keep him safe from Cora while we're gone." Emma stared him straight in the face. "This is a terrible time for you to call in my favor, and I figure the least you could do is help me protect my own son while we go looking for yours!"

"Ms. Swan, let's get something straight: you owe me a favor, not the other way around. And asking for your assistance while retrieving my son is a fairly mundane form of repayment, let me assure you. It could have been unspeakably worse." He didn't need to add that he had asked unspeakably worse from others less fortunate beholden to him.

Emma swallowed, hard. "Please, Mr. Gold. I need it for my son."

He considered her for a long moment, and Emma was aware of the minutes ticking away until noon. It was just past eight now.

"Well, if it's for Henry, I'm sure I can manage something." Gold walked behind the counter and lifted out his black potions box from beneath the register. He opened it and ran his fingers along the rows of little wax stoppers. His thumb came to rest on a one of the bottles. He looked back up at Emma, then withdrew the chosen vial slowly.

Damn drama queen, Emma thought.

The bottle was lovely, made of red glass and tapered to a thin, elegant neck. The wax that sealed it was white and pearly. Emma could see the liquid sloshing around inside it, catching the light and refracting it into a million shades of pink.

Gold spoke, "This is the base ingredient for a powerful protection spell, but there are other… components. I cannot provide those, you have to do so yourself."

"That's fine," Emma said, reaching for the bottle.

"Wait." Gold put the potion on the counter and rested his hands on his cane. "Miss Swan, you should know that this spell is unique. All magic comes with a price, and the protection of a loved one costs much indeed. In your circumstance, well, you may not be prepared to pay."

"Gold, there is no price I wouldn't pay for the safety of my son. As a father yourself you should understand that."

"Oh, I do, but-"

Emma snatched the vial off the countertop and tucked it into the front pocket of her jeans. "Good. So what else do I need for the spell?"

Gold sighed, and took a sheet of parchment from the potion box. He passed his hand over it, and spidery black lettering shimmered into life across the page. He handed it to her.

"The instructions are all on here. We shall discuss your payment at some later date after we've secured my son. I suggest you do the spell quickly. I expect you to return here promptly at noon." He turned his attention to closing up the box and putting it away as Emma walked out the door.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…" As he counted down, he couldn't help but smile despite the general state of shambles his life was in. Sometimes, all it took to lighten the heart was the misery of another. Just like in the good old days. "…one."

"GOLD!" The door to his shop banged open and his poor little bell flew off and knocked over a hat stand. "What is this bullshit?!"

Gold faced his angry intruder. "Such language, Ms. Swan! And look what you've done to my bell. I knew you would be the death of it one day."

"Cut the crap, and tell me exactly what this garbage means." She stalked over to the counter and slammed the parchment down on it so hard he feared the glass would break.

"I don't understand."

"Enough! Of course you do. This is… filthy! This spell. It's complete bullshit!" she repeated.

He finished righting the hat stand and turned around to face her. His voice was harsher than it had been before, and she could swear she was talking to Rumplestiltskin now.

"I warned you the spell came at a high price, dearie. Let's see if I remember your reply. 'There is no price I wouldn't pay for the safety of my son'. Was that about right? What exactly has changed in the past five or so minutes? It's not as if you have to kill anyone."

"But… but…" Emma mentally slapped herself. She needed to get it together. Arguing with Rumplestiltskin required all of her wits. Maybe more than she had, actually. "This can't be the right spell. It reads like a low budget movie script. Real magic doesn't work this way."

"Oh, and now you're an expert on _real magic_? A month ago you didn't believe it existed at all! Trust me, this is the real spell, those are the real requirements, and you really have to do what it says on that scrap of parchment if you want to safeguard your son."

"But, it says I have to _sleep with someone!_" Emma's shocked whisper would have done a Victorian spinster proud.

"Sleeping isn't required, my dear," Gold snickered. Juvenile, but worth it! "I fail to see why you're carrying on so. It's not as if you're an innocent maiden. Been around the block and have the illegitimate son to prove it, eh? It should be no unendurable hardship. Although, you may want to get a move on it, you only have about three hours left."

"ARGH!" Emma threw up her hands. "This is ridiculous. I can't just accost some random stranger and say hey, let's have sex!"

"Of course not," agreed Gold. "You have to choose carefully. Didn't you read the rest of the paper?"

"Well, no, I sort of got stuck at that first little detail!"

"It has to be someone with strong ties to our enchanted lands, someone with magic in his veins, in his history. It can't be a regular human. It has to be a fairy tale person, and the more magical the better."

Emma's heart skipped several beats and she could feel the blood draining from her face. "No freaking way are you suggesting…" She took a giant step back in horror.

Gold's eyes widened as he caught her meaning. "NO. That is absolutely not what I meant. Ms. Swan, try to control your overactive imagination. You couldn't possibly afford that price." He almost sounded insulted.

"Yeah, well, it sure seemed like that's where you were going, old man! Goddamned scary as hell."

Emma tended to swear like a sailor when upset. Gold found it rather amusing.

"This is a primitive spell, ancient and effective. Ideally, the parents of the child in question would be the ones performing it," he lectured. "The sexual intercourse would not be much of a price to pay in and of itself. That's why the blood sacrifice is required. However, your circumstance is… more delicate, shall we say? You have to choose your partner with as much care as time allows."

She chewed on her bottom lip and thought out loud. "August would be ok. He's sort of my friend, and he's single, attractive. I think he would help me out and it wouldn't be overly traumatic for either of us. But I haven't been able to find him since I broke the curse. I don't even know if he's alive or not. So who else is available?"

"Have you considered our handsome local milliner?" Gold suggested.

"Speak English, Gold."

He rolled his eyes. "Other than myself, which we have already established is most certainly_ not_ an option, there are only a couple of other men that had knowledge of magic and our world even during the curse. They would be your best choices for ensuring a powerful spell. One, as you mentioned, is the puppet, who has apparently disappeared, and another-" He paused for dramatic effect. "Is the Wonderlander."

"Hatter?! The Mad Hatter? He's crazy! Are _you _crazy? There's no way. He tied my mother to a chair, and tried to blackmail me into making hats for him! He's completely off his rocker."

"Yes, that is technically what it means to be mad."

"I am not sleeping with that crackpot."

"Again with the sleeping. What is with you people here? Back in my world, the spell didn't involve all this sleeping."

"STOP! Just stop. I don't need your fond remembrances of screwing in the olden days, ok? Just give me that." Emma angrily yanked the parchment off the counter and crumpled it into her back pocket. She sighed and thought of Henry's smiling face, and her usual grim-determination-in-the-face-of-insurmountable-odds demeanor returned. She marched toward the exit. "If you will excuse me, Gold, I have a man to catch."

"Best of luck, dearie!" His laughter followed her out the door.


	2. We're All Mad Here

Emma's determination dwindled with each step from Gold's shop to her car. She sat behind the wheel and repeatedly banged her head into it. This was lunacy. How could she just grab Hatter and demand he sleep with her? Especially after everything between them in the past. Sure, he was decent looking, that wasn't the problem, and if it had to be a near-stranger, at least he should be tolerable. But still! What could she say? She didn't have a lot of experience with this sort of thing. She'd met Neal when she was very young, and she definitely hadn't had a lot of opportunity to date after prison. She wasn't even sure she could scrounge up one decently alluring outfit to wear, much less a convincing pickup line.

"Ok, this is stupid," she told herself. "Guys want sex all the time, right? I'm not a hag or anything. This is actually Jefferson's lucky day! I'll just go to his mansion, we'll knock the spell out, then I'll go home, pack, and Henry will be safe while I'm gone." She nodded firmly, and having convinced herself (for the moment, at least), she drove off.

As luck would have it, she saw Hatter walking down the street on her way to the mansion. Maybe he had dropped his daughter off at school? Emma pulled the car over and parked slightly illegally on the side of the street. "Well, hell, it's not like I'm going to give myself a ticket."

She got out and wiped her hands on her jeans a couple of times to dry them. She took a deep breath, then jogged up to the man. "Hey, Jefferson, wait up."

Jefferson turned quickly, signature long coat whipping around in an elegant sweep. He looked vaguely alarmed. "Sheriff Swan, what are you doing here? I didn't do anything illegal! I'm allowed to walk Grace to school. Her foster parents and I have an understanding. In fact, she'll be coming to live with me soon. Weekends only at first, but hopefully-"

"No," Emma interrupted. Lord, that man could go on and on. Still, he was rather handsome, and he did care a lot about his child. She was convinced she was taking the right approach. "You're not in any trouble. I just wanted to talk."

He looked at her askance. "About what?"

Emma hooked her thumbs into her belt loops and swayed back and forth a bit with nervous tension. "I… Well, I sort of need a favor. From you. So… that's what I'm here to talk to you about. Ask you. For that favor, that is." Shit. She wasn't making much sense, if the growing apprehension on his face was anything to go by.

"I'm not sure I understand, Sheriff."

"Call me Emma."

Now he looked outright scared. Ok then, it was time to take the bull by the horns. The milliner by the hat. Whatever.

"Look, Jefferson, I need your help with a spell to ensure Henry's safety while I'm out of town."

His expression cleared. "Oh, I see. Henry's a good kid. He believed me when nobody else did, and he's friends with my Grace. I don't have my hat anymore, but what can I do to help?"

Emma stuffed her hands deep into her front pockets. "I need you to mrphlerpmmmme."

Jefferson leaned forward, "What was that?"

"I NEED YOU TO SLEEP WITH ME!" Emma shouted, then blushed fiercely and glanced around. There wasn't anyone else out walking yet. Close call.

Jefferson did not look nearly shocked enough. Maybe this was a more common type of spell than she had thought? "I don't see what sleeping with you can possibly accomplish, but I suppose it's not really a huge favor. You can come over tonight, if you like."

Oh, thank God! He was taking this really well. "Thank you for agreeing to help me, Jefferson, it means a lot to me. But I'm afraid tonight will be too late. I'm leaving town at noon, so could we just do it now?"

"Well, I suppose we could try, Sheriff, but I'm really not tired at all yet."

"Call me Emma. And what does… Oh. SERIOUSLY? What is it with you people?! You've lived in this world for twenty-eight years now! You guys don't know common euphemisms? I. Need. You. To. Have. Sex. With. Me. Jefferson!"

Now he looked properly shocked. "What? I mean… What? I… You… What?"

"Look, it's no big deal, really. It's part of the spell. After Mr. Gold, you have the strongest connection to the land, and-"

"After Mr. Gold?! You mean you-"

"No, gross! God, of course I didn't! I just mean-"

Jefferson started backing away slowly.

Emma growled and ran a hand through her hair. "Ok, I'm going to level with you. The spell requires me to sleep- I mean, have sexual intercourse with a man, and the more magical that man is, the more powerful the protection over Henry will be. After Gold, you and August, Pinocchio, are the only two men who were aware of the existence of magic even during the curse. You two are connected to the Enchanted Forest in a way that most other men here aren't, you two would be the best options for ensuring a strong spell. And August is missing. That leaves you." Emma was aware that this perhaps was not the most flattering way to get a guy, but what could she do? She had to be honest with him. "It won't really mean anything, Jefferson."

"That's, that's the problem, Sheriff. I can't just… I haven't. I haven't been with a woman since my wife died. That was hundreds of years ago."

It was Emma's turn to be shocked. _Hundreds _of years?

"I've had opportunities, mind you! But it was never the right setting, never the right moment."

"Never the right woman?" she questioned softly.

Jefferson sighed. "Exactly. It was never her. My wife was everything to me, and when she died, part of me died with her. I can't be with someone I don't love as much as I loved her; it would feel like a betrayal. And as much as I would like to help Henry, I don't love you. I hope you understand."

What could she say? "Of course I understand, Jefferson. I'm really sorry I even asked for this kind of favor. It wasn't fair of me. I hope we can just sort of forget about this, forget about everything, and be friends." She stuck her hand out, and he reached over to shake it, visibly relieved.

"Of course, Sheriff. Emma." He smiled, turned around with another little coat-twirl, and was on his way.

Emma slumped against a nearby oak tree and buried her face in her hands. That figures. She finds the one celibate man in all of Storybrooke and propositions him. Unbelievable.

She was jarred out of her self-pity by a low, mocking laugh coming from the other side of the tree behind her. It was a very familiar laugh.

Oh, _no freaking way_.

XXXXX

"Hook," she spat, almost choking on embarrassment and anger. She turned and stalked around to where he was standing. "You eavesdropping bastard. What, you have nothing better to do than skulk behind trees listening to idle village chatter? Don't you have a powerful magician to run away from?"

"My dear Emma-"

"That's Sheriff Swan to you!"

"You wound me. Very well, as you wish it, _Sheriff_." And, somehow, he managed to make even that sound dirty.

"Firstly," he continued, "I am not now nor ever will be hiding from the Crocodile. _He _should be hiding from _me._"

"Ha!" Emma snorted.

Hook decided to charitably ignore the unladylike outburst. "Secondly, I was behind the tree because I saw you drive up in your police vehicle and didn't want to make your _official _acquaintance just now. I thought it would be advantageous to take cover. How was I to know you were going to stop and accost that poor slob? Thirdly, don't try to change the subject. That was definitely not idle village chatter. I've heard more subtle talk in whorehouses." He started laughing again.

"Eavesdropper! Filthy scheming bastard! Goddamned pirate!" Emma temporarily lost her mind and swung out wildly at Hook. He easily caught her hand in his own and continued to chuckle lightly.

"Uh uh, love, you won't catch me off guard with that sledgehammer again. I've got my eye on you. Which is lucky for you, really, considering…" he trailed off.

Emma fumed silently. Then loudly. "Let go of my hand, Hook! And what do you mean, considering? Considering what? The fact that I'm about to kill you?" She tugged, but his grip was firm. She was debating where to kick him when he abruptly let go of her hand. She stumbled backwards but he caught her by her lapel and dragged her back. Dragged her quite a bit closer than she had been before, in fact. She put her hands up to his chest to push him away, but he looped his arms around her and leaned in waytoo close for comfort.

"No, considering you _need _me, darling."

"The only thing I need, Hook, is for you to back out of my personal space, then preferably die. In that order." She shoved again, and he spun her against the tree and leaned in even closer. Their noses were scant inches apart now, and she noticed that the kohl around his eyes was badly smudged. He looked tired. But still smirking, damn him!

"Tsk, is that any way to ask me for a favor? One would think you'd be a little more humble. Perhaps on your knees? Ah, but let's not get ahead of ourselves." His smile deepened and it looked positively evil now.

Emma's eyebrows drew down into a rage-induced V. "You'd better not be implying what I think you are! As if I would ever ask you for anything. I would rather have sex with Grumpy! Or Dopey! Or whichever dwarf was lying around! Now if you will get the hell out of my way, I've got to go back to town. I'm running out of time, between you and Jefferson-"

"Fool," Hook scoffed.

"He is not a fool!" Emma shot back. "I find his devotion to his late wife sweet. A pirate probably wouldn't understand."

Hook tightened his grip on her waist. "You might be surprised how well this particular pirate understands. But anyways, I wasn't calling him a fool. I was referring to you."

Emma huffed and glared. "Why am I a fool? I asked, was refused, and I'm moving on. No big deal!" It was, in fact, a huge deal, but he didn't need to know that.

"You are a fool, albeit a very lovely one," he said to her chest, "because you went to him. Why choose the foppish hat maker? You really should have just come straight to me with you _little favor_. " He raised his eyes and they were so hot, Emma was surprised the tree behind her didn't catch fire. "Granted, I don't have magic myself, but I was born to the enchanted lands and am most recently arrived to your world. If anyone still has the magic of our homeland in his veins, it is I. Who better to perform the spell with, love? Who better to _sleep with_?" he mocked.

Emma ran her tongue over her upper lip, her mouth suddenly dry. Hook's gaze followed the small movement. "No way, Hook. Absolutely not. It will neverhappen. It will never be you."

"Well, my dear Sheriff," he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Then who will it be? If not the wooden brat, and not the hat maker, and not me, then who is left?"

Emma's heartbeat quickened. The smooth-talking jackass had a point. No need to tell him that just yet, though.

"Well, I suppose there is always Gold," she mused. "He obviously wouldn't be my first choice, but of course, he's not my last, either." Her expression left no room to doubt just who her dead last choice would be. "He even offered, for a price, and I suppose he would ensure the most powerful spell casting, seeing as he's the strongest man in town." She inched to the side, and Hook allowed it in his outrage.

"The Crocodile?! Surely you jest! You cannot be considering him! That is…" he sputtered uncharacteristically.

It was refreshing to see him at a loss for words. His expression was incredulous, and Emma took advantage of his distraction to completely slip out from between him and the tree. He reached to grab her again, but she was quicker. Her right cross caught him so hard that he hit the tree with a loud crack.

"Ouch," Emma sympathized sarcastically. "Ok, now that we've gotten that out of the way." She took a deep breath, and waited for Hook to right himself. He glared at her over his bloody nose, but made no further move towards her.

"Fine, be a bitch," he said somewhat nasally. "Happy hunting." He turned to go, but she grabbed at his coat sleeve. He turned back.

Emma stood there, and her face was a mixture of humiliation, anger, and desperation. It was beautiful to see. "Wait", she said. "Just… hold on."

He grinned and his annoyance with her was instantly forgotten. He eyed her up and down. "To what, love?"

Emma sighed, already regretting her decision. It was going to be a long couple of hours.


	3. Hook, Line, and Sinker

Emma was on her way to Hook's ship to have sex. She was on her way with Hook. To Hook's ship. To have sex. With Hook. She was pretty sure her brain was broken. But she was fast running out of time and was already out of other options, so therefore she was on her way…

"Darling, if you keep sighing like that, I'm going to be ever so sad. Shall I assume you've changed your mercurial female mind? It's all right, I completely understand. I am heartbroken, of course, but what am I to do? I shall just drown my sorrows at your local pub." Hook veered off course and began walking back the way they had come. Emma sighed even louder and grabbed his collar, dragging him back beside her. Damned pirate was really milking this for all it was worth.

"_No_," she ground out between her teeth, "I have _not _changed my mind. Let's just keep going."

Hook glanced at her through the corner of his eyes and pretended to be deep in thought, rubbing at his chin. "Let's just keep going what, dearest one? I don't think I quite heard you."

Damned soon-to-be-DEAD pirate! "Let's just keep going, before I punch you in your face?"

He stopped abruptly and waved his hook dramatically. "Not my beautiful face! Ah, my bright angel has changed her mind. To the pub I go."

This time, Emma grabbed the jacket collar a bit too hard and he was both laughing and coughing as he turned back around to face her. He massaged his throat with his hand and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Emma lowered her voice to a furious whisper. "Let's keep going, _if you don't mind." _Her glare dared him to find that inadequate.

"I'll get a please out of you today yet, love. One way or another." His smirk was diabolical, and Emma wondered if his ego could get any bigger. Well, his huge ego probably made up for his small… Emma's train of thought derailed at the sudden realization that she was going to find out. Shitshitshitshitshit. Her life, where had it all gone wrong?

Hook grabbed her hand and held on to it as they walked along toward the docks. Emma yanked away and shoved both hands into her jacket pockets.

"Don't get any ideas, Hook. This isn't a date. You hate me, I hate you. I need this favor, and God knows you probably need to get laid after being stuck with Cora for all those years. It means nothing." She stalked forward a few steps before she realized he wasn't next to her anymore. She turned, and saw him gazing down at his shoes. Had she… Was it possible she had hurt his feelings? The very idea seemed ludicrous.

Then he looked up, and she could see that no, he wasn't upset. He was pissed.

Oops. "Umm, too far? Sorry, I just like to call a spade a spade and-"

In the blink of an eye, he had backed her into a light post, with his hook pressed against her belly. Not to hurt (yet). Just to remind. She sucked in her stomach as far away from the shiny weapon as she could. "Stop it. Let me go, I'm warning you, Hook. I'm calling this sideshow off. Just go away, leave me alone, and let's pretend this whole thing never happened, ok?"

"By the seas, can you just shut up?" He reached up to grab a fistful of her long hair with his hand, but also moved his hook slightly further away from her. "Let's have ourselves a little chat right here, shall we? It seems clarification on a few key points is called for. And if you think I'm going to let you forget what happened, what _is _happening, you are delusional. I am not as charitable as the hat maker. That idiot. To pass up this opportunity…" He stroked down the length of her hair, following the motion with his eyes. He did it again, then brought his attention back to her face. "You are a foul-mouthed, deceitful wench." He smiled. "I like it. But do not mistake my enthusiasm for desperation. I am doing this because you need a favor, and I may have need of a favor myself, down the line. I scratch your back," he ran his hook down over her hipbone and up around her back, "Well you get the idea. You will owe me for this, Swan. Make no mistake of that. Unless you still want to cancel our little accord, since you _hate me. _This is your last chance to do so, so speak now. Otherwise, we are doing this _my _way. Are we clear?"

Emma stared at him and weighed her options. She could call it quits and leave Henry's care to her parents and hope for the best, or she could suck it up, do the spell like a big girl, and be indebted to Hook. Neither option was especially attractive, but when it came down to it, there was no choice.

"I still want to do the spell. I want Henry to have the greatest protection possible against Cora. Gold and I will both be gone, and should she choose to make a move, she might be unstoppable. I'm not taking that chance." She swallowed her pride. "I would appreciate your help."

Hook nodded slowly, "That's still not a please, but it will do for now. And you realize you will owe me a favor of my choosing? No backing out of this like you did our deal on the beanstalk."

Emma snorted again. Oddly enough, the sound was growing on him.

"Yes, Hook, I realize you're not doing this out of the goodness of your ice-cold heart. Which Cora probably keeps under her bed." Emma laughed at his black look. "Oh relax, can't you take a joke? Yes, I realize Ill owe you a favor. I swear that I will repay it to the best of my abilities, as long as it doesn't mean harming my family or friends, ok? Do we have a deal?" She wriggled free and brought up her hand between them for him to shake. He stared at it as if it was a dead fish. Her hand wavered. "What, do you need me to scratch out my oath in blood or something?"

He scoffed. "That won't be necessary, my dear. We'll just seal it the old fashioned way." And with that, he swooped forward and kissed her.

XXXXX

It took a second or two for Emma's brain to process what was happening. Hook was kissing her! And the man was _good_. It was different than she had imagined, in those brief moments of fantasy she would never admit to anyone. It was less demanding, more inquisitive and soft. She had always thought he would just plunder and pillage like a pirate accustomed to a rougher way of life. But he kissed like a courtesan, like kissing was the main event and not just foreplay or deal-sealing or whatever this was. He nibbled along her lower lip, and Emma found herself opening up to him almost without thought. He accepted the invitation and deepened the kiss. Ah. There was the demand, the voracity she'd expected. Now he devoured her like a demon, fisting his hand in her hair. And it was better than good.

After a moment longer than was wise on such a public street, they drew apart.

Emma opened her eyes and was surprised to find her arms had wound their way around Hook's neck. They were both breathing hard and not entirely steadily. When had the situation gotten so out of her control? It was just supposed to be a simple sex spell. No big thing, right? Emma mentally slapped herself for the second time, and decided to play it cool.

She pushed him from her and stepped away from the light post. She raked a hand through her hair, disentangling Hook's in the process. "Ok then, we have a deal. It's all official. Now can we just get going? I have an appointment I have to keep at noon, and I have a feeling being late for it might just be the death of me." She turned to walk away, but stopped and called over her shoulder quietly, "And no more kissing."

Hook gazed at the enigmatic blonde woman walking away. He let out a slow breath and grinned. He did so enjoy a challenge! He hurried to catch up.

They reached the docks after five more minutes of silent walking. Emma's stomach was coiling around and around itself, and she was tense with nerves. Hook noticed, but uncharacteristically said nothing.

They were standing at the end of one of the middle piers before she knew it, and Emma looked around in confusion. "Where's your boat?"

"The Jolly Roger is a ship, love, and she's right here." He grasped her hand and pulled her forward suddenly.

Emma braced for impact with the water, but found herself stumbling onto an invisible gangplank instead. She alternated between, 'bastard did that on purpose!' and 'hey, that's pretty cool', but Hook didn't leave her much time for musing before dragging her further up onto the ship.

Extinguished as suddenly as a candle flame, the invisibility spell dropped and the Jolly Roger was revealed in all her glory. Emma gasped, and Hook allowed her to stop and take in the view. She was standing on a real honest-to-God pirate ship, and she had to admit it was fantastic.

"Gorgeous, isn't she? She has no equal. She's faster and more dangerous than any ship in any fleet in any of the worlds." He ran his hand lovingly down one of the ornately carved railings, and Emma could picture him at the helm, steering through a hurricane while the winds howled around him and his crew scurried to follow his commands. He suddenly seemed every inch the pirate.

"You must have quite a lot of history with this ship."

"Aye, she's a tough old bitch!" He smacked the balustrade playfully. "We've seen our share of adventure, true enough. And we're not through yet. Someday I plan to sail back to Neverland… But one enemy at a time, eh? Now." He walked backwards, guiding her along towards a large door set into the stairs behind the main mast. "Where were we?"

Emma gave one last vaguely concerned glance around the deck before entering the Captain's Cabin, where there were new wonders to distract her.

It was like a museum collection of pirate stereotypes. A massive wooden desk bolted to the floor and covered in all manner of papers, maps, and ledgers took up the center of the room beneath a large round window. Along the wall to her left, built-in bookcases were lined with brass instruments she couldn't even begin to name. Nautical tools, books on navigation, trinkets and treasures from who knows where, all crammed in behind the heavy glass doors. Chests and boxes were scattered throughout, some open to reveal luxurious fabrics and others tantalizingly closed. She found herself slightly disappointed not to find a monkey or at least a parrot. But then she noticed the large iron bed with velvety-looking covers that occupied the space to the right. Oh.

Sometimes when she was nervous, Emma lapsed into stony silence. This was not one of those times. "This is a pretty nice room for a pirate, very comfy and swank. I'd have expected the bones of your fallen enemies and maybe some bottles of rum littering the floor. You have a nice view." She paced over to the window, then peeked over at the bed. "And check out that monster. I bet it weighs a ton, how did you even get it aboard? Probably had the peons do it. No hammock for the captain, I guess!" She laughed, but it sounded forced and died abruptly when she heard the deadbolt slide into place.

She whirled around, but Hook had moved away from the door and was retrieving something from one of the cabinets.

"Of course there is rum, my dear." He brought her an unexpectedly lovely cut crystal glass filled with dark liquid, then went back to pour his own. He rejoined her with a grin, "But if it's a hammock you want, we'll have to head down to the crew's quarters. You can have your pick. Lady's choice, I always say."

"I bet you do." Emma quickly downed the contents of her glass in one shot, then coughed violently, eyes stinging and watering. "Holy hell!"

Hook was eyeing her with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. "Easy there, princess. You may want to take it slow with my fine vintage."

"Fine vintage, my ass! It tastes like rocket fuel!" Emma sputtered and coughed some more.

"While I don't know what a rocket is, I'm fairly sure that was an insult. But I'll forgive you. It seems to be becoming a habit of mine." He raised his glass to her in a silent toast and drank slowly, savoring the rum without breaking eye contact.

Emma took a deep, shuddering breath, then stuck out her glass. "How about another?"

Hook took it without comment and poured her another measure of rum. She had learned her lesson, and took a smaller, experimental sip. It wasn't that bad, really. She'd had worse. Which really said something about her life, but she didn't dwell on that for long. She took another tiny sip. Then another.

Hook's patience was running thin, and he took the glass from her hand, ignoring her cry of "Hey!"

"I didn't mean quite this slowly, darling. As much as I would enjoy a leisurely evening drinking by the fire and telling you of my adventures, that's not why we're here. And I gather we don't have much time."

Emma couldn't disagree, so she watched without protest as Hook put the glasses down on the desk and returned to tug off her jacket. Her heart was racing a mile a minute as his hand moved to the buttons of her white shirt.

"You… Umm. You seem to manage really well with just one hand." Crap, she couldn't believe she just said that. Could she be drunk on less than two small glasses of rum?!

Hook's hand stilled, but only for a moment. "I've learned to manage. Some things are more difficult than others, and took longer to master. Undressing a lady efficiently was one of my top priorities." He grinned at her, and she couldn't help but laugh. It diffused the tension long enough for him to finish unbuttoning her blouse. He skimmed his hand up between her breasts and palmed the shirt off her right shoulder, then her left. It fluttered to the floor.

Ok, the tension was back. She stared at her shoes, and could feel her blush spread down her body. This was ridiculous, she told herself. Nothing to be nervous about. It wasn't her first time; she was twenty-eight years old, for crying out loud. But this felt different, wrong somehow, as if he was using her. Although she was really using him, she supposed. Either way….

"I can tell you are overthinking this," Hook said, breaking into her thoughts.

Emma tore her gaze from the floor and looked at him. "I'm going to be honest with you, this isn't easy for me. I know you've probably had a million women, but I generally don't do this with just any random guy."

Hook chuckled. "While I appreciate the vote of confidence, love, it has hardly been a million. No more than five or six hundred thousand, tops." He winked at her. "I repeat: don't overthink this. It is a simple exchange for mutual favors. Just let yourself go for the next hour. Surely the world and its problems can do without you for that long."

He leaned down to kiss her collarbone and she shivered. But when she felt him reach behind her for her bra fastening, she grabbed his arm. "No, you first. Lose the coat."

With a raised eyebrow, Hook shrugged out of his long leather duster and let it drop to the floor by her shirt.

Emma would rather die than admit it, but it was a damn sexy coat. Without it, he stood before her and seemed less imposing. Less story book character and more real living, breathing man. She jerked her chin towards the general vicinity of his chest. "Shirt, too."

"Demanding, aren't you? I'll allow it." He unbuttoned his black shirt halfway down, then reached back and pulled it up and over his head in one smooth movement.

As he bent down to tug off his boots as well, Emma let herself secretly drink him in. She couldn't deny that he was a fine, fine man. All lean muscle and tan skin. She could see why Cora had chosen to keep him around for so long. Then she immediately had to scour that image from her brain. She hurriedly went to yank her own boots off and the sound they made clunking to the deck was deafening in the otherwise complete silence. In a split-second decision, she also shimmied out of her jeans before she lost her nerve.

Emma looked up and found Hook staring at her hungrily. "Gorgeous," he said, and she didn't know whether to feel insulted or honored that he used the same awed tone of voice as when referring to his ship.

He walked over, circling completely around her. "Hmm, I must say that I like the way women in your world dress. No dozens of petticoats or slips to battle through." He traced the line of her bra strap, then her waistband. "Absolutely gorgeous," he repeated.

He reached for her, but she stopped him. "Wait!" She bent down to retrieve the potion vial from her jeans pocket, along with the crumpled instruction sheet. She smoothed it as best she could along her thigh. "You should know what this involves before we go any further. It gets a little… bloody."

He looked at her, then snatched the parchment from her hand. He read quickly and frowned. "Are you sure about this, love?"

She took the paper back and placed it and the vial on a little shelf above the bed. She didn't realize it, but his eyes followed her every move.

"Yes," she said. "I'm sure. But I'll need a small knife or something."

Hook walked over to her and traced the curve of her neck with his left 'hand'. "Will this do?"

Emma looked down at the razor-sharp point of the appendage and nodded. Hook found her expression of apprehension mixed with determination endearing.

"Don't worry, I'll be mindful of it _at other times_," he leered.

She rolled her eyes. "You'd better be." Her expression turned serious once more, and she continued, "Oh, and you don't have to cut yourself, the way the spell says. It was meant to be done by both parents of the child, but it's not a requirement. My blood should be enough, ok?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he drew his hook down her shoulder blade and further to snag her bra. With a quick twist, he sliced through the thin strap.

"Hey!" Emma cried. "Was that necessary? These things aren't cheap, you know." She was irritated enough that he was able to pull the whole contraption off her without protest.

"I'll buy you a new one. Ten new ones," he mumbled, his attention elsewhere.

When Emma realized that he was no longer listening to her, and why, she squawked and tried to cover herself.

But Hook wasn't having it. He looped his left arm around her, trapping her arms against her sides. He leaned in to kiss her again, and cupped a breast at the same time.

She gasped, arched her back instinctively, then turned her head to the side. "No kissing."

"Look at me, Emma," said Hook, and she did. "My way, remember?" He slowly leaned in for another kiss, and this time she did not turn away.

He kissed her until she was breathless, and pet her until she felt hot enough to melt into the floor. She was vaguely aware that this wasn't as clinical and detached as it probably should be between two people just exchanging favors, but then she was too busy clutching his hair and neck and shoulders and belt buckle to care.

He walked her backwards, still kissing her, until her knees hit the edge of the bed. She sat down hard and braced herself with her arms behind her, looking up at him. He stared back and impatiently pulled off his belt, flinging it across the room. The sound of his zipper was quieted by the loudness of their breathing, and she stared unashamedly as he pulled off his leather pants.

"You know, there is really no excuse for your huge ego, Hook," she said under her breath, then reached up and pulled him over for another kiss.

After that, there was no more talking for a long while. There was only a tangle of limbs and sweat-soaked skin and her hair fanning across the pillows. There was tension in his muscled back as she raked her nails across, leaving deep scratches, and there were the occasional whimpers and moans that neither would admit to later. It was a battle of wills no one was fully committed to winning, both having been too lonely for too long.

Emma felt light-headed and fierce. She pulled the pirate down and rolled them over, tossing her head back and tracing his chest over his heart. Yes, it was there, beating as fast as her own. Cora didn't have it after all.

Hook felt her hair brush over his thighs and reached up to grab a handful. She had the most beautiful hair, thick and silky. He ran his fingers through the locks and grabbed her hip.

She bent to kiss him again, then stilled long enough to pluck the little red vial from the shelf. "It's time," she said.

He sat up and clutched her closer, rocking slowly as she broke the wax seal. He met her eyes, and she nodded, then tipped the bottle back, contents trickling down her throat. She barely had time to swallow before she felt a burning pain in her left shoulder. She looked and saw the tip of his hook buried in her flesh, not very deep, but enough so that blood flowed freely.

Before she could even think to stop him, he drew the hook down over his own shoulder and met her shocked gaze somewhat defiantly. "Just in case, love."

Moisture gathered behind her eyes, but she blinked it away rapidly. The spell was beginning to take effect, and she could feel it swirling in her belly, trickling out through her wounded shoulder, and gathering heavily in the air around them. She closed her eyes and hugged Hook.

Their movements quickened, becoming frantic, and soon it was all over. They both shuddered as the spell shattered, no longer contained.

Emma rested her head on Hook's shoulder, and felt him stroking her hair again. "Do you think it worked?" she whispered.

"Probably, but we should do it again to be on the safe side."

She bit his shoulder, and he smiled.

She looked up at him and for once, there were no barriers between them. "Seriously, thank you, Hook. What you did for me, for Henry, I really appreciate it. And I won't forget it."

He acknowledged her thanks with an awkward nod, hesitated, then added, "Don't you think you should call me Killian now?" He asked the question casually, but she could sense a deeper meaning hidden just below the surface. When was the last time anyone had called him by his real name?

"Thank you, Killian," she repeated, slower this time, and she could feel him relax a bit further in her arms. It was a start.

She only realized she had dozed off when she awoke to Hook tickling her side. "Wake up, darling. I would love nothing better than you keep you here all day, but didn't you have a meeting at noon?"

"Didn't? What time is it now? Oh my God!" She scrambled out of bed and ran across the room to her clothes, giving Hook a fun show in the process.

"It's only five past, you're not that late." He propped his head up on his hand, watching her dress.

"That's late enough!" she snapped, "Gold is not a patient man, and I still have to grab my stuff from home and-"

"Gold?!" Now he was up and out of bed, striding over to her, uncaring of his nakedness. "You're meeting with the Crocodile? Why?"

Emma paused in buttoning her shirt, sans bra. "I thought I mentioned that already. We're leaving town to go look for his son. That's why I needed the protection spell for Henry."

He grabbed the jacket out of her hands. "No, you absolutely cannot go. That scaly bastard is not to be trusted."

Emma tugged her jacket out of his grip and pulled it on. "Oh, for sure. I don't trust him at all. But I have to go, I owe him. If you're really lucky, I might not even die on this crazy trip and then you can call in your favor, too."

He didn't look happy, and he caught her arm to drag her in for a punishing kiss. "See that you don't die, Emma. I don't need yet another reason to have to kill the Crocodile." He realized what he said, and what he was about to say, and abruptly stopped. "Besides, I don't want to have to break in another ship's wench while you're gone."

She eyed him evilly. "You are really asking for that face-punching, buddy. But I don't have time right now."

"That is a shame. Perhaps you can drop by my quarters again after your little mission, hmm? To punch me… or whatever? Really, when you think about it, at the rate your child gets into trouble, can he ever have too much protection?"

He said this with such an innocent, concerned face, she couldn't help but laugh. "Perhaps I can, Killian, perhaps I can."

And then she was gone.

Hook stared at the closed door for a few minutes, playing the morning over and over in his mind. A surprising turn of events, to be sure, but not an unwelcome one. Then he ran a hand through his hair. He needed to revise his plans.

XXXXX

Emma made it back to the pawnshop in record time, but still found Gold pacing up and down the sidewalk out front, impatient and angry.

"Ms. Swan, so good of you to grace me with your presence. A mere twenty minutes after the agreed-upon time."

"Lighten up, Gold. I'm here now, ready to go. The sooner we start this mission the sooner we can finish it and come home."

He tapped his cane on the sidewalk and gave her a considering look. "Eager to get back are you, dearie? Whatever for? Or rather, whomever for? Your son, of course, but maybe also someone else? Things worked out well with the Hatter, I presume."

"Oh no, the Hatter was a dead-end. But things worked out _fantastically _with Hook, so all's well that ends well, right? Thanks for the spell, by the way!" She gave his shoulder a friendly smack, and climbed into her car.

The look on his face was priceless.

XXXXX END XXXXX

UPDATE: When I decided to continue this story, I was originally going to add chapters here. However, I will instead do the sequel as a new story, leaving A Good Pirate ended as is. I have already posted the first chapter to the sequel The Long Road Home, so enjoy! And thank you for all the lovely reviews and the suggestions to continue the story, at least until Hook can call in his favor…

;-)


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